Three Down
by victoriamartynne
Summary: Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn go out drinking and Angel has to pick up the pieces


Title: Three Down  
Author: victoriamartynne  
Email: victorialouisemartin@yahoo.co.uk  
Rating: PG  
Category: Light Humor  
Content: A/C Friendship  
Summary: Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley go out drinking and Angel has to pick  
up the pieces.  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon  
& David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.  
Distribution: Anywhere, just let me know  
Notes: Set before Fred came into the show, probably around late season  
two but before Pylea. Mostly focusing on the period where Cordelia and  
Angel have become friends again (Probably after he got her clothes). I  
got the idea for this from watching some film (Can't remember the name!)  
late at night. Just a little bit of fluff!  
Dedication: To Shadow4CorAngel for all her support and feedback, this  
one's for you Gail! Let me know what you think!  
Feedback: Please  
  
"Well, she's all you'd ever want, she's the kind you'd like to flaunt and take to dinner! Well, she always knows her place, she's got style, she's got grace, she's a winner! She's a lady! Whoa whoa whoa she's a lady! Talking about the little lady! And the lady is mine!"  
  
"I perhaps thought she was mine!"  
  
"Hell would freeze over before I'm anybody's! I wanna have sex on the beach... come on move your body!"  
  
Angel opened an eye. What on earth was going on downstairs at... he looked at his watch... two thirty in the morning?  
  
"Angeeeeeeeeeeeel!" A familiar female voice squealed up the stairs.  
  
Angel ran a hand across his eyes and sat up in bed. He shoved the covers off his body and pulled on his sweats which he had left on the floor when he'd gotten into bed. He didn't bother with a shirt, he planned on getting back to bed as soon as he'd sorted out the three clowns downstairs who liked to call themselves his employees.  
  
He opened his bedroom down and went down the hall with trepidation. He came to the stairs and saw a large lump on the bottom few steps. Getting nearer he saw that it was a body covered in a throw from the couch wearing heavy duty metal toe capped boots.  
  
Gunn.  
  
He stepped over the comatose black man and came into the lobby. His bare feet feeling cold on the hard floor.  
  
The scene that met him almost made him burst into laughter. "What is going on down here?"  
  
Wesley was sat cross legged in the middle of the floor wearing a baseball cap backwards and had two kiss marks on his cheeks, one pink and one red.  
  
A glance north led him to Cordelia, who had made herself a bed on top of the counter out of a pile of files and his leather duster.  
  
"Have you been drinking?" He asked, smelling vodka and tequila in the air.  
  
"Perhaps just a smidge." Wesley commented and then burst into laughter, giggling in a high pitched feminine way. "Just a smidge. A smidge. What a wonderful use of the English language!"  
  
Angel ignored him and went to Cordelia. "Are you okay?"  
  
She opened her eyes and smiled. "I'm absolutely fine Angel. Are you naked?" She sat up and looked disappointed to see he was wearing sweats. "Oh."  
  
Angel ran a hand through his hair. "How much have you drank?"  
  
"Well." She declared, like she was about to start a great story. "First we had a few shots, the a few cocktails and then Lorne just gave us a couple of bottles."  
  
"Beer?"  
  
"No, vodka." She told him and ran a finger across his biceps. "I never knew you had so many muscles. Do you work out?"  
  
"I'm dead Cordelia; I don't have to work out." He told her patiently.  
  
She looked sad. "You're dead? Oh, that's so sad!"  
  
He fought the urge to laugh at her again.  
  
"You know what's sad?" Wesley piped up.  
  
Angel turned around. "What?"  
  
"Old Yeller died."  
  
Cordelia grabbed Angel's arm suddenly.  
  
"What?" He asked.  
  
"I thought I was falling." She told him and then her eyes opened wide. "Maybe I can fly! I wish I could fly way up in the sky..."  
  
"But you can't." He told her firmly. "Maybe you should go and get into a bed upstairs. Sleep it off?"  
  
"Sleep what off?" She asked, peering at him closely. "You have pretty eyelashes."  
  
He rolled his eyes at her. "You need to go to bed. And so do you." He told Wesley.  
  
"Okay." The Englishman replied and fell backwards so his back was on the floor but his legs were still crossed in a sitting position.  
  
He instantly began snoring.  
  
"Two down." Angel muttered and turned back to Cordelia.  
  
She was taking bug swigs from a bottle of tequila. "Where did you get that from?" He asked in amazement and prized it from her fingers.  
  
She pouted at him. "I always had it, you just didn't see it."  
  
"I think I would have seen you with a bottle of tequila Cordelia." He told her. "I think you should get down off there now and come up to bed."  
  
"You know, it's a shame you're a no-bone. I could have a lot of fun with you tonight." She told him with a wink.  
  
She slithered off the counter and Angel tried to ignore the way her skirt rode up, showing him that Cordelia was wearing the equivalent of dental floss as underwear. "I am not a no-bone!" He said instead.  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am... I'm not doing this. It's juvenile." He told her, taking control again.  
  
"You sound like Wesley." She told him and gazed up at him. "You're a tree."  
  
He fought the urge to laugh. "A tree? Why am I a tree?"  
  
"Because you're tall and you have a lot of brown leaves at the top and you have a big trunk." She grinned.  
  
He did laugh then. "Never mind. I think we should get you to bed so you can sleep it off."  
  
"I think we should get you to bed so you can sleep it off." She told him, gazing at his crotch with a small smile on her face.  
  
Angel looked down and found himself blushing. Perhaps the sight of Cordelia's 'dental floss' had affected him in a different way than he'd thought. So that's what she meant by 'trunk'. Well, it could be worse, she could have said 'small trunk'.  
  
He grabbed her elbow and started walking her to the stairs. "You go up while I get you some water."  
  
She nodded. "Water is good, tequila would be better."  
  
He ignored her and let go of her arm. "You just go up into my room."  
  
He heard her cackling as he turned back to get her some water from the kitchen. He'd just filled a glass when he heard a thump followed by a female and a male yell. He hurried out of the kitchen with the water and saw Cordelia straddling Gunn on the stairs. He was more a lot more awake but still as drunk as before.  
  
"Barbie, I knew you always wanted me!" He grinned and let his hands wander to her bare thighs.  
  
Angel swiftly crossed the lobby and had Cordelia up off of Gunn in seconds. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I tripped over something on the stairs and then Gunn was there." She told him, eyeing the glass. "Is that tequila?"  
  
"No. And the something on the stairs is Gunn." He looked down at the black man who was starting to look sleepy again. "Hey, Something!"  
  
Gunn's eyes opened at the loud noise, rather than being called 'something'. "Hey man."  
  
"Are you staying there or going to get in a bed." Angel asked, keeping his hold on Cordelia who was trying to angle herself so that she could sip the liquid in the glass which Angel had lifted up too high.  
  
"I'm goin' to sleep bro', leave me alone!" He folded his arms and closed his eyes.  
  
"Once again, two down." Angel told himself and then spoke to Cordelia. "Come on, and try not to trip over him again!"  
  
She stepped over Gunn gracefully and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm a ballerina!"  
  
"Sure you are." He replied dryly. "Upstairs!"  
  
He followed her up the stairs and caught her twice when she was about to fall.  
  
He led her to his room and sat her down on his bed. "Sip this."  
  
He handed her the water and she started to gulp it down. "I said sip. Christ Cordelia, no wonder you're this drunk if that's how you drink your alcohol!"  
  
She took small sips of the water to humour him and then lowered the glass. "This isn't tequila."  
  
He smiled and brushed back her hair. "Whoever said you weren't smart deserves to be shot."  
  
She scrunched up her nose. "I think there was an insult in there somewhere. Maybe it'll make sense when the room stops spinning."  
  
"You take the bed." He told her and stood up. "I'll take the couch."  
  
"Thank you." She replied and lay down on her side. "Oh, I think the room is spinning in one direction and then bed is spinning in another."  
  
He laughed and threw a blanket across her. He reached for the empty bin and placed it at the side of the bed. "If you feel like you want to be sick there's a bin on the floor next to you, try not to miss it. The rug is very expensive. On second thoughts..."  
  
"I won't be sick, I promise." She exaggerated crossing her finger across her heart in a criss-cross motion.  
  
"I don't believe you." He muttered.  
  
He lifted the bin and rolled the rug up before putting it back where she could reach it.  
  
"Now try and aim so I don't have to get the mop out."  
  
She nodded but her eyes were already closed and he doubted that she even heard him.  
  
"Three down."  
  
He went across to the couch which was to be his bed for the night. He sat down and rubbed his eyes. A glance at his watch told him it was three fifteen.  
  
Long night.  
  
He let himself fall onto the battered velvet couch and closed his eyes just as the vomit hit the metal bin.  
  
The End 


End file.
